


Blind Confusion

by LachesisMeg



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blind Character, Canon Disabled Character, Embarrassment, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LachesisMeg/pseuds/LachesisMeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times someone doesn’t realize Matt is blind, and one time for Daredevil</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Image Consultants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their job to pay attention to how people look, but they aren't very observant about the important things.

Jack ruffled Matt’s hair again. “You’ll really be okay here by yourself, Matty? I could maybe get to the bank tomorrow.”

“It’s alright, Dad. We’ve been coming here forever. I know where everything is and everybody knows me. I can handle a haircut on my own.”

Jack kissed Matt on the top of the head and left the barbershop.

Matt breathed in the smell of the place. The same lotions and powders his father smelled like, when **he** got a real haircut before something important. The humidity from all the sinks and the steam let the scents hang in the air and envelop him.

Eventually the owner walked over and greeted Matt, “We’re ready for you, Matt. What brings you here today?"

“School picture day is tomorrow and my Dad wants me to look nice for it."

“We can take care of that,” he said, taking Matt’s arm and leading him to a chair. “This is Sharon. Sharon, Matt needs to look handsome for his school picture. You’ll take care of him, right?”

“You got it. How long do you want it?" Sharon was a small woman with a warm rich voice. 

“Not too short?” Matt pushed the hair off his forehead, “But I guess it shouldn’t cover my face this much."

Sharon took his glasses and snipped and clipped and trimmed for what seemed like forever. She hummed quietly while she worked, a tune Matt didn't recognize but liked.

She put the scissors down on the counter in front of him, ran a comb through his hair and asked him, “So, what do you think?”

Matt didn’t understand the question. “What do I think about what?”

“Do you like your haircut?”

“I guess.”

“Here, take a look.” She tried to hand him something, a mirror?

“I can’t,” Matt’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “Can I have my glasses back, please?” Why was she doing this?

The barber next to them grabbed her and whispered into her ear, “Sharon, he’s blind. This is Murdock’s kid.”

To Matt’s surprise, Sharon didn’t shirk away in embarrassment, but turned directly toward him and placed her hand on his shoulder. She apologized in a clear voice, “I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t know. That must have seemed like a really mean thing for me to say.

“I think your haircut looks great, but let’s make sure you like it. Can I have your hands?”

She gently took his hands and ran them over his hair, describing what she had done at each spot. “I cut it just over your ears here, but we can go higher if you want. What do you think about this neckline, is it comfortable for you?”

Matt took slow breaths, not saying anything until he was no longer afraid of sobbing. He asked curiously, “What… what does it look like on top?”

“I left it long enough that it’s a little bit curly. Does that that sound good?”

“Yeah. My dad says he likes it when my hair is curly.”

“So, what's the verdict? Do you like your haircut?”

“Uh-huh.” Matt nodded calmly, his eyes clear.

“Let’s get this hair cleaned off you.” She took off the apron and the towel from his neck and then wiped and brushed away the loose hairs and swept up the floor.

“Oh wait, there’s one bit that’s still too long. Hold still while I snip it.

“All done. Here are your glasses.” She touched Matt’s hand with his folded up glasses and he put them on.

“Your dad’s going to meet you here, right?”

Matt nodded.

“Do you need help to get back to the chairs?”

“Um... I dunno where Dad put my cane? I can get there myself with my cane.”

“Ok kiddo, you stay put and I’ll find it for you.”

 

When Jack got back, Matt told him Sharon was now his favorite for haircuts, and they had to get her every time. When he paid for the haircut, Jack took a few dollars from the money he had been saving for ice creams and gave it to her as a tip. Anyone who could make his Matty smile these days was worth it.

* * *

The school had the fancy photographer come for picture day this year. Usually they did the photos in the gym, but this time they had a room set up and called students into it one at a time. Chaz, the aide who helped in Matt’s classroom, led him in.

As soon as Matt got to the stool he could tell Chaz had pulled out his gameboy and zoned out. Chaz thought Matt couldn't tell when he was playing with it if he turned the sound off. He helped Matt around school, and he was nice, but he would clearly rather be somewhere else. 

At the insistence of the photographer, Matt took off his glasses and smiled for the photo.

The photographer repeated the instructions, “Look here and smile. Say fuzzy pickles.”

Matt smiled again, aiming his gaze to where the photographer’s voice was coming from.  
“What are you doing, kid? I haven’t got all day. Look at the camera.“

“I’m trying!” Fists clenched, Matt started to get off the stool.

“Don’t you move! You think this is funny?” the photographer yelled loud enough for Chaz to notice.

Chaz looked up. “Hey, what’s the deal? He’s blind, stop yelling at him.”

“He’s blind? How was I supposed to know?”

“I dunno, the fact that he came in here on my arm, or the dark glasses, or the way he found the chair with his hands?

“Hey, where are his glasses? Matt, did he make you take your glasses off?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you rather have your glasses on for the picture?”

“No, it’s ok.”

“Well I think you look great. I don’t know what this a-hole is complaining about.”

Matt grinned at the almost profanity. Even though he knew Chaz was trying to cheer him up it still worked.

Chaz continued in a friendly tone, “I’m standing right behind the camera now, so look toward me, ok?”

Matt smiled for Chaz and ignored the photographer. He really hoped his Dad liked these pictures.


	2. Nana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nana is still sharp, but she misses some things.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? There are a going to be a lot of people. When I invited you to Thanksgiving I thought it would be at our house. I didn’t know we’d be driving out to Nana’s.”

“It’s ok, Foggy. I’ve liked everyone in your family I’ve met…”

“Except for my cousin Ed,” Foggy interrupted.

“Point conceded. Except for Ed. Does anyone like Ed?”

“I’m not even sure his husband likes him.”

“Right, so I’ve liked **almost** everyone in your family that I’ve met. It follows logically that I will also like your Nana.”

“I dispute your logic. What if I had only introduced you to the family members who you were like most likely to like?” Foggy waved his hands vigorously emphasizing the likes. “Eh, I don’t dispute your conclusion. You probably will like Nana. She’ll probably like you more than me, too.

“But what about the car trip?” Foggy asked, flopping back onto his bed.

“You said it’s only an hour once we get out of the city? I should get through the drive ok, as long as I don’t have to sit in the back seat. And no one eats fish for breakfast.” Matt punctuated this last statement with a glare aimed toward Foggy.

“No getting lox on the way out. Check. But it’s still going to be a big mob of people, and I know you hate that.”

“It won’t be any worse than the dining hall, Foggy. I’ll just settle in somewhere out of the way and it will be fine.

“It sounds like a great trip, Foggy.” Matt pulled the blanket on his bed through his hands. “You’ll get a chance to show off to your Nana how suave you are now that you’re in law school, and I’ll hear all the stories of when you were a toddler.”

“At least Nana won’t be able to show you the baby photos.”

“I’m sure you were an adorable baby, Foggy. Maybe I’ll ask her to describe them to me,” Matt laughed.

Foggy groaned and tapped Matt on the back of the head with a pillow.

* * *

The drive out was worse than Matt had hoped, but not as bad as Foggy had feared. They pulled over once when Matt turned a truly disturbing shade of green, but he recovered without incident after a few moments of fresh air. Foggy made a mental note not to take that curvy stretch on the way back.

Foggy had wanted to get there early to give Matt a chance to acclimate before the hordes arrived, but, as usual, he had underestimated how long it would take to get out of the city. So they pulled up to a full driveway and an even fuller living room.

“Foggy! Please tell me you brought the good bagels!” 

“Yes, Mom,” he said as he handed them over with a hug, “It’s good to see you, too.”

Matt took the moment to fold up his cane and put it away. He could tell it was crowded enough with people and furniture and children crawling all over the floor that he wasn’t going anywhere without a guide.

“Matt, come over here and let me hug you.”

“Yes, m’am.”

“Matt, we’ve been over this, please call me Anna.”

“Yes, Anna,” Matt stepped forward, handed the bottle of wine he brought to Foggy, and tentatively held out his arms for the incoming grapple. Maybe other people had nature/nurture questions about Foggy, but Matt had no doubt. Foggy hugged just like his stepmom.

“I’m glad you’re here, Matt. Foggy doesn’t tell us nearly enough about how the two of you are doing.”

“We’re doing fine at school, Anna. But we are glad to be here and happily anticipating this long weekend.”

“And all the excellent food, Mom. And seeing Nana. Matt, I have to introduce you to Nana!”

“What about everyone in the living room? Who exactly is in here right now?”

“I don’t think you really want the answer to that question, buddy. Yeah, yeah, living room first.” Foggy raised his voice to a bellow, “Everyone, this is my law school roommate Matt. Yes, he’s blind. Matt, this is a room full of cousins and other relatives whose names I barely remember, so I certainly don’t expect you to learn them all.”

Matt gave a weak wave and a blank smile as some relatives guffawed at Foggy’s ‘introductions’ and others said, “Hi Matt!” and “How on earth do you stand living with Foggy?” When Matt overheard one person on the far side of the room quietly ask another, “Why did Franklin say he was blond? He’s clearly a brunette. Do you think he dyes his hair?” and the response, “Blind, Martha. Franklin said he was blind,” Matt’s smile turned more genuine and he barely held back a chuckle. 

“My cousin is waving back, Matt. Cindy, did you not hear the part where I said he’s blind? He can’t tell you’re waving at him, doofus.

“Ok, now to get you to Nana. There’s not a lot of room in some of these halls, you probably want to follow behind me.”

Matt put his hand on Foggy’s upper arm and took in the house as they went. It had an odd layout. The kitchen was unusually far from the living room, although given the good smells coming from it, Matt could have found it on his own. Eventually. Matt got the idea this house had the sort of layout that even sighted people found confusing. Along the way Foggy pointed out the main dining room they would be eating in, two staircases and one half bath. “And there’s another bathroom next to the kitchen. That one tends to be quieter, and I’m sure Nana will let you use it. Oh, and there’s a back door off the kitchen if you need to get outside for a break. This is kind of a rambling farmhouse, isn’t it? We’re almost there.”

When they finally entered the kitchen Matt was surprised there was only one person there. An older woman who moved stiffly was standing in front of the stove. The pots on the stove were bubbling. The turkey in the oven hissed slightly as it roasted. The big kitchen table in the middle of the room was piled high with what smelled like raw potatoes. The rest of the room was a cacophony of scents, both sweet and savory.

Foggy led Matt’s hand to the back of a chair by the table and ran over to his grandmother. “Nana,” Foggy exclaimed as he came up behind her for a hug.

“Franklin, Franklin. I’m cooking! Don’t you know better than to bother me when I’m cooking?” Her words were critical, but her tone was all love. She turned around and returned Foggy’s hug. “Introduce me, already!”

“Nana, this is my roommate, Matthew.”

Matt reached out for a handshake, “It’s wonderful to meet you. Foggy has told me so much about you.”

Nana ignored his hand and grabbed Matt in a hug. She only came up to his neck, but somehow she managed to bump his glasses in the process. He gave in and hugged her back.

“There are too many people in the other rooms, Nana. Can Matt stay in here and help you?” 

“Are you good help in the kitchen, young man?” Nana’s tone was kind, but Matt could tell the question was serious. He straightened his glasses and tried to look useful.

 

“Yes, m’am. I am an excellent potato peeler and I am very good at following directions.”

“When did you learn to peel potatoes, Matt? It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing you would have done with your Dad.” Foggy sounded amazed.

“It wasn’t a hard knock life from Annie, but we did have chores at St. Agnes, Foggy. Sure, I’m lousy at sweeping, but I’m pretty handy at food prep.”

“Franklin, get him the potato peeler. The good one with the black handle, not the metal one your grandfather refuses to throw out.”

“Yes, Nana.”

Matt found the chair again, and investigated the table in front of it. Huge bag of potatoes, small bowl for peels, large bowl for peeled potatoes. He pulled out the chair and sat down. Foggy handed him the peeler, then started prowling the room looking for things to taste.

“Franklin! I didn’t say **you** could stay and help. You’re no help at all! Get back to the family. Matthew and I will do just fine.”

Foggy came over to Matt, a hitch in his breath like he wanted to say something. Matt reassured him, “Listen to your Nana, Foggy. I’ll be fine. Go, schmooze with your relatives.” Foggy patted Matt on the back and left the room.

Matt picked up the peeler and started with the potatoes. He rather liked peeling potatoes; there was something very concrete about the task. He held the peeler still and rotated the potato with his other hand, finding the remaining skin with his gripping hand and lining it up for removal. Rarely he managed to get the entire peel off in one strip (not as easy to do as with apples!). That was always satisfying. A lot of these potatoes had eyes, so that was a less soothing task, but it was still almost fun to run his fingers over the finished potatoes seeking any speck of peel he had left behind.

Matt fell into the rhythm of the work and listened to Foggy’s Nana talk about everything and nothing. Foggy’s family was so very different than the small world Matt had experienced with his dad, but it was still a wonderful form of family and Matt always felt comfortable around them. Maybe because it was so different from the family he had lost. Maybe because it was all connected to Foggy.

 

Less than hour later Foggy returned to check on them and to ask Nana if it was time to send in the first round of pot washers. He was surprised to find that Nana was not as smitten with Matt as he had predicted.

“Franklin, Matthew is not very good at this. He’s pretty fast, but he keeps leaving green on the potatoes. I’ve told him he has to get all the green off, but it keeps happening! I mean, it’s really your father’s fault because he brought this terrible bag of old potatoes, but we can’t cook them like this.”

Foggy turned toward Matt and in an exaggerated whisper said, “Matt, I am so sorry.” Matt seemed to be taking it well; he was doing his best to hold in laughter.

“Nana, he’s blind.”

“Then he needs to look more carefully.”

“No, Nana, that wouldn’t help. He’s not blind like Uncle Bob without his glasses. He’s all the way can’t see anything blind. There is no way he can tell what color the potatoes are.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I thought you knew, Nana.”

“Matthew, why didn’t you say something?” Matt guessed she was glaring at him.

“I know better than to argue with someone as important as Nana Nelson in her own kitchen, m’am,” Matt made his best sucking-up-to-authority face as he said it. “Foggy, if you stay and take the green off any I missed I’ll wash and chop them.”

“Aha, an excuse for me to stay in the kitchen!” Foggy turned hesitantly toward his grandmother, “May I please stay?”

“Hmmph. I can tell you two are training to be lawyers with this much smooth talking. Yes, Franklin, you can stay, as long as you don’t sample anything. Matthew, you need to tell me when you can’t do something.” Matt thought she was brandishing a wooden spoon when she said that. 

“Yes, m’am,” they said in unison.


	3. Next Generation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt doesn't think of himself as the mentoring type...

Matt sat on the stony bench, listening with one earbud and making notes on his laptop. He didn’t need any more modern art after his ill-conceived visit to Vanessa’s art gallery, and he certainly didn’t want anyone describing seas of tonal reds to him.

But Foggy insisted that they stop in at this “little gem of an art museum no one knows about, Matty. I have to show my favorite works to Karen! It’s right on our way!”  
So Matt sat in the quietest gallery in the tiny museum, trying to get some work done while he waited for them to finish their art appreciation.

“Excuse me, sir, can you tell me what this sign says?”

Matt looked up toward the young man. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. Are you having trouble figuring out the words? Maybe you can tell me the letters and I can help you read them.”

“What do you think I am, five? I’m blind, not a baby. If you don’t want to help, fine. You don’t have to be all stubborn about it.”

Matt laughed, “I really can’t read the sign. I’m blind, too.”

“No way.”

“Yup, I’ve got the dark glasses and the white cane to prove it.” Matt gestured to his face.

“But you have a laptop and a suit. You must have some fancy job, you can’t be blind.”

“You can tell I have a suit and a laptop, you can’t be blind.”

“That’s stupid, just because I have some sight doesn’t mean I’m not blind.”

“Exactly. Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t be a lawyer. Did someone tell you blind people can’t have careers?”

“I never met any blind grownups except the ones in my classes. I guess I thought they all became teachers? I dunno, I didn’t really think about it.”

“Blind people can do almost any job.”

 

______

“Rachinbir.”

“I’m Matt. It’s nice to meet you, Rachinbir. It sounds like you could use another adult to talk to sometimes. Let me give you my card.  
Do you read braille?”

“Yeah, although not as well as my mom wants me to.”

Matt chuckled, “My dad wasn’t happy until he claimed I could read braille faster than he could read print.” Matt reached into his bag and found a couple of embossed papers, then held them out to Rachinbir. “This is my business card. And this is some information about the Braille study groups at the Heiskell library. I try to go to the Thursday study group when I don’t have to be in court. Maybe you could come sometimes.”

 

 

_______

“I was going to suggest we ask someone else to read the signs to us, but this really is an unpopular gallery, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why other people don’t like it. I like the strong contrasts these artists use. I come here a lot, but there’s a new painting and I want to know more about it.”

“Let’s see if we can use my phone to read the sign. Is it on the wall?”

“No, it’s down here on the railing. The font size is tiny, though.”

Matt set up his phone and then found the sign with his hand. He aimed the phone’s camera at the sign and tapped twice. A few seconds later his phone started reading out the description of the artwork. Rachinbir laughed at the way it pronounced the artist’s name.

He told Matt about some of the other works in this gallery. To Matt’s surprise he enjoyed listening to Rachinbir’s descriptions.

“So you’re a lawyer?”

“Yes. I graduated law school, passed the bar, have my own firm. The works.”

“Was it hard? Because you’re blind?”

“I don’t know how hard it would have been if I weren’t blind.”

“Argh, your jokes are worse than my dad’s. You know what I mean.”

“Okay, okay” Matt laughed, then his voice turned serious, “Yes, law school is a lot of work even for sighted people. So is college. I got help from the schools, but it wasn’t always the right kind of help, or enough. But school was important to me, so I made it work.”

“Do you think I could be a lawyer?”

“If you wanted to, sure.”

“My parents always wanted one of us to be a doctor. Could I be a doctor?”

“There are blind doctors. It’s probably not easy, but if you want it and you work really hard I think you can do it. But what do you want to do?”

“Well, sometimes I think about being an artist.”

“That’s really cool. Have you been to the Met’s Seeing Through Drawing program?”

“I want to go, but I have Punjabi class on Saturdays.”

“Being bilingual must be a lot of work, but I bet it will pay off.”

“I hope so. I can’t read Punjabi, though; my parents think it will be too hard for me to learn two Braille languages at once, so I haven’t learned the Punjabi alphabet yet.”

Matt heard a group of people coming toward the gallery, speaking in rapid fire... that must be Punjabi. Rachinbir moved toward them. A woman said something to him in a tone that suggested she was asking “Have you been bothering this nice man?”

“Mama, please let me introduce Matthew Murdock. Mr. Murdock, this is my mother.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Matt said holding out his hand. She came forward and shook it. “Rachinbir and I were discussing schooling and careers for blind people. And he was sharing his love of art with me.”

“Thank you for talking with him,” she responded with a thick accent. Her voice lilted.  
“I worry there are not enough people who can help him with his studies.”

“He invited me to come to braille group at the library, Mama.”

“And when he is a bit older perhaps he can come help me in my law office. I can always use more help to keep my files in order.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is at least one blind MD in the USA - https://nfb.org/images/nfb/publications/bm/bm10/bm1010/bm101008.htm
> 
> (I don't feel like this chapter is finished, but I would rather share it and let people read it.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments feed the writing. Criticism is also welcome.


End file.
